A Nightmare on Elm Street: She Knows You're Awake
by J. Watson
Summary: Formerly titled "A Nightmare on Elm Street remake." A reimagining in which Dr. Neil Gordon is interviewing notorious female serial killer Nancy Holbrook. Should Dr. Gordon believe Nancy when she identifies someone else as the killer? As of 11/15/2012, the chapters have been reworked. Hope you like the new changes!
1. A Perfect Evening

THREE MONTHS AGO.

Springwood, Oregon

Nancy was in hysterics as she hid in the closet. She looked down at her trembling hands as the blood on them turned a blackish color.

She kept repeating in her mind: _This isn't real. This isn't real. It can't be real. They're all dead._

Her neck had a burning sensation, as steamy breath ran along the nape of her neck. Nancy kept her eyes forward, as a wet sensation filled her left ear.

* * *

EARLIER THAT DAY.

It was a year to the day, and Nancy Thompson sat alone at Postino's. She ordered a Pinot Grigio in remembrance of Tina Lane—her friend for well over a decade.

In a last ditch effort to save her marriage, Tina went under the knife for the ultimate makeover. Nobody could have anticipated that Tina would have a fatal allergic reaction. She flat lined on the operation table. Nobody knew about Tina's decision. If she had, Nancy would've talked Tina out of the procedure—not only for moral reasons, but also because of her friend's heart arrhythmia. Nancy remembers vividly the call she received from Tina's mother Hilda. She was helping her daughter Kristen with her homecoming dress. The scissors practically flew out of her hand in shock. Her son Alistair barely caught Nancy in midair as she fainted.

For a while after Tina's death, Nancy pitied her friend for letting a marriage destroy her self-esteem. Rod Lane might've had the face of Adonis, but his boyish charms never appealed to Nancy. How ridiculous for a thirtysomething man to be chasing women fresh out of high school. Nancy never really cared for Rod's penchant for scotch and sports cars. But Tina couldn't get enough of Rod, and the fact that he was nine years younger made her feel energized. Tina was always sunny and bubbly for Nancy. But in private, Tina must've have been wrestling with her insecurities.

Once Nancy accepted that Tina would never come back, she began to analyze her own marriage. It seemed that lately her husband Jacob was spending more time at the office. Granted he became a Senator last year. But there was something different about Jacob. When he would call Nancy to cancel their dinner plans, his voice sounded conspiratorial—almost as if he didn't want somebody to hear him. He also spent a lot of weekends working, which left only Nancy and Kristen to attend Alistair's football games.

After Nancy paid her bill, she freshened up in the ladies room. Nancy fiddled with her wavy hair, and frowned at the streak of gray that blossomed by her right ear. _I need to make an appointment at Tiffany's_. She studied her taut body in the mirror, pleased at what the Pilates were doing for her.

She planned to spend the rest of the day at Whole Foods Market. Tonight's dinner had to be special—for it was Jacob's forty-sixth birthday. She gave Jacob an ultimatum—be there for family dinner, or she will not give him the gift that he pretended not to want (it was a Briel watch).

_T__onight's going to be perfect_ thought Nancy, as she adjusted her silk scarf.

* * *

But the night didn't turn out to be perfect. Not at all. In the closet, Freddy Krueger whispered in Nancy's ear: "Did you miss me?"


	2. Jack and Johnnie

THREE MONTHS AGO.

Concord, California

Neil Gordon stirred in his sleep.

_He was back at Westin Hills again. As he walked down the hall, Neil could barely step over the bodies that littered the floor. It was an unprecedented massacre. Even the security guards weren't spared. They had deep gashes across their carotid arteries. It mustn't have taken them long to bleed out. _

_Neil continued onward, not knowing what he would find. He tried to walk as quietly as possible, when he began hearing the nursery rhyme. Neil tiptoed around the corner, where he found him cradling her in his arms._ _Then, his body went rigid as he turned around to look in Neil's direction. Neil stood frozen like a deer in headlights._ _He barely had time to react as the male patient pounced on him like a panther. _

Neil awoke with a start. Sweat beaded his face like hot glue. For a moment, he didn't know where he was. Neil couldn't tell by the tiny slivers of light if it was morning or midnight. Eventually, his surroundings became clearer. He must've fallen asleep on the sofa again. As Neil tried to sit up, a debilitating headache overtook him for a moment. It was another night spent with Jack Daniels and Johnny Walker. Neil was pissed at himself because he was bound to get it from…

"I made you coffee," said Jesse Walsh. Neil looked up to see Jesse holding out a coffee mug.

Jesse must've had the kitchen television on, as there was a news story faintly playing in the background:

"We bring you a bizarre case from Springwood, Oregon. Nancy Thompson, wife of Senator Jacob Thompson, has just been arrested for the murder of her husband and two teenaged children. What makes the case even more unique is that the bodies of several missing children were found in the basement. No word yet on their identities. At this time, Nancy has been incarcerated. A press release has not been made by Lt. Glen Lantz."

Neil tuned out the story, as he concentrated on Jesse's features. His blonde hair was wet, most likely from his usual morning shower. Much of his face looked pale, except from his rosy cheeks. His striped shirt looked fitted, but that was due to Jesse gaining five pounds after his foot injury. Despite being in his mid-thirties, Jesse had a boyish countenance. He almost made Neil feel old. It didn't help that Neil went prematurely gray in his twenties. Despite their closeness in age, Neil always looked like the older of the two.

Jesse sounded calm…too calm. Other times, he would go on a tirade about Neil's drinking.

"Thanks," replied Neil. His movements were stilted. He could barely hold the mug in his hands as he sipped the hot but potent liquid.

Jesse seemed to be studying Neil's face. Only this time, it wasn't the usual loving concern. There appeared to be a detachment on Jesse's part.

"We need to talk, Neil," said Jesse.

"I'm sorry about this. I promise that it won't happen again…"

"You say that each time. And yet, here we are again having the same conversation," replied Jesse.

"I'll try harder this time. Yesterday was a bad day. Dr. Simms lost the case yesterday because Sheila forgot to include the psych results. The company is falling on hard times…"

"I can't be doing this with you anymore," said Jesse sternly. It cut through the string of excuses that Neil was offering. "It's time that we admit the truth. You can't cope with what happened at Westin Hills…"

"We've been over this already. I'm fine about that…"

"No, you haven't. It happened two years ago from yesterday."

"Okay, so I've been edgy about it. What do you want me to do? Go to a shrink?" snapped Neil.

"Don't patronize me, Neil. You know damn well that I care about you, and I'm looking out for your well-being. But it's not enough. You're in a dark place right now, Neil. And it seems like no matter how much I ask you…beg you…to seek help…you slap my hand away each time," said Jesse. His head hung low.

Neil touched Jesse's shoulder. He was leaning in to hug him when Jesse dropped the bomb: "I packed my things before you woke up. I'm renting a place closer to the university. I can't stay here with you anymore."

"I love you," uttered Neil.

"I love you too," responded Jesse. "But I think some time apart will do us some good."

"Look, I'm sorry. Stay with me okay. I didn't mean it. I'm just angry that you're going like this. It's hard for me to take all this right now." said Neil.

"It's just some time apart. Here's some info about a recovery program. I hope you enter it...for us," said Jesse. He hugged Neil, and then kissed him on the forehead. He stood up and walked out the door.

Neil remained hunched over on the floor. He could barely register the brochure. He already missed Jesse.


	3. Springwood, Oregon

It was three months now, and Neil was going strong with his sobriety. Jesse had yet to move back in, as he wanted to make sure that Neil was serious this time. They had been through the same thing over the last five years. The ultimate test was going to be Neil being out of town. When he was in the East Bay, Neil felt that Jesse's eyes were on him. There was also the determination to get Jesse back, so Neil was on his best behavior.

Neil had never even heard of Springwood, Oregon. All he knew was that it was located only a few miles away from Portland. From what Dr. Simms had told him, Springwood was trying to break away from its rural roots. It was a town nestled in the countryside, equivalent to California's Sonoma or St. Helena.

It was dusk when he drove passed the marshes into the city's limits. Neil squinted his eyes just to see in the darkness. He had never seen a road so devoid of streetlights. It made him miss Concord all the more. The small-town life had never appealed to Gordon, and the absence of commotion made Springwood appear deserted.

* * *

Neil rolled down his windows to wake up. He was running on three hours of sleep, as he was too anxious about making a bad impression. The law firm actually wanted Dr. Simms to conduct the interview. But after having a stroke last week, she was in no condition to do anything. Simms's secretary Eleanor passed her notes to Gordon, and he ventured off to save their dwindling expert witness business. Too bad Sheila quit three months ago after that whole trial debacle. She would've had more field experience, even though her organizational skills were lacking. But now, Neil was the senior expert in the group. He had to emerge from the bureaucratic shadows as a paper pusher and fact checker.

His GPS device led him straight to the Springwood Police Department. It was located in the old part of Springwood—the portion that had yet to be gentrified. He could see a tall, stocky figure standing outside of the precinct's doors. Based on Simms's notes, Neil figured it was Detective Glen Lantz. If it was Lantz, Gordon was being directed towards a parking space. Once he parked, Gordon gathered his recording equipment from the trunk, and made his way towards Lantz.

"You must be Detective Lantz," said Gordon, extending his hand.

"You're an hour late," said Lantz, with his arms crossed. "I missed my kid's birthday party for this occasion."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Gordon.

Gordon had little time to glimpse the police station's interior. He was being led down a narrow hallway by Lantz. His eyes darted around at the chipped paint and tacky wallpaper.

"Yeah, I'll tell my wife that," said Lantz, as he led Gordon into an interrogation room.

"You can set up in here. I'm understaffed tonight, so a deputy will only guard the door for an hour into the interrogation."

"It's not an interrogation," piped Neil.

"Call it whatever you want," replied Lantz.

Gordon felt a little apprehensive. He was going to be all alone? What about the person's counselor? After all, he was supposedly interviewing a…female serial killer? Simms's notes looked like chicken scratch.

"Are you all right with that?" asked Lantz.

"Sure…fine," said Gordon. Although Gordon felt he had little choice but to accept Lantz's arrangements.

"When you're finished, let Deputy Kincaid know."

* * *

As he sat with his equipment, Gordon tried to acquaint himself with the sparse surroundings. Nothing seemed to put Gordon at ease. Instead, he kept studying a wall clock that was yellowed with age. He counted a full twenty minutes when the woman was escorted into the interrogation room by two deputies. Her chains were fastened tightly through a loop on the table and the floor.

"She's all yours, doc," said Deputy Kincaid, as he stationed himself out the door.

Gordon tried not to stare at the woman seated across from him. When he was sure that her head was down, Gordon studied her features. She had wavy dark hair that covered most of her face. A streak of grey hair was just above her right temple. Although she was supposed to be in her early forties, the woman looked frail…almost like an elderly woman suffering from osteoporosis.

"Nancy Thompson?"

The woman hesitated for a moment. Gordon looked up from his notepad.

"Holbrook."

"Pardon me?" asked Gordon. Her voice was more like a whisper.

The woman lifted her head up. Gordon was taken aback by her blue eyes.

"I use my maiden name now…Holbrook."

Gordon checked the notes he received from Simms.

"Oh…so you're divorced then?"

Nancy didn't respond.

"Nancy Holbrook it is."


	4. Do Pictures Lie?

"Stop everything this instant!" yelled a female voice, as Neil was about to ask his next question. "What are you doing with my client?"

"Excuse me?" replied Neil. He turned to see a petite woman in her forties standing at the interrogation room's door. Detective Lantz was standing behind her. Neil could make out the outlines of two other officers.

"I asked you 'what are you doing with my client?'" repeated the woman. "Who are you?"

"Are you her attorney? I'm Dr. Neil Gordon. I'm the expert witness for the evaluation test on Ms. Holbrook."

"My client's name is Nancy Thompson. She doesn't go by Holbrook."

"You need to take your conversation out of the room," said Detective Lantz gruffly, "Kincaid, stay here with the prisoner while the doctor and the attorney sort this out."

Neil and the woman exited the room. "I'm giving you two five minutes to sort his out. If you don't come to an agreement, I'm putting the prisoner back in her cell. Capiche?"

"Understood," said the female.

"There must be some misunderstanding…Ms…."

"Burroughs…Maggie Burroughs," replied the attorney curtly.

"Ms. Burroughs…I was sent here by Dr. Simms…We were hired by your firm Lockhart & Forrest…," said Neil.

"I'm the new counsel. The firm dropped Ms. Thompson as a client last week. When I took over the case from them, I cancelled your company's services. Didn't your boss get the message?"

"Dr. Simms recently suffered a stroke. So you can probably understand that she hasn't been checking her messages. I'm here in her place as a last minute replacement."

"Well, I'm sorry that you made a trip for nothing. But we don't need an evaluation test anymore.."

"And why is that?"

Maggie changed the subject. "What interaction did you have with my client?"

"I was only in there for two minutes," replied Neil.

"Two minutes is long enough. What did you ask her?"

"I asked her name, that's all," said Neil.

"And that's when she replied Holbrook," finished Maggie. "In addition to being tried for murdering children, she's also being convicted for murdering her husband Jacob Thompson, and her kids Alistair and Kristen. Didn't you review her file?"

"I wasn't really debriefed, given that the test was to happen today, and I barely got notification."

"Look, since you traveled all the way over here, I'm going to let you off the hook. But next time, you're going to have to be more careful."

"Thank you for that," said Neil. "Could you also do me the courtesy of another thing?"

"I don't follow," said Maggie, as her brow furrowed.

"May I ask why you no longer need an expert witness?" asked Neil.

"That information is privileged," said Maggie.

"I need to report something to my boss. Even if the message wasn't delivered, I'm still on company time right now," said Neil.

Maggie thought about it for a moment.

"Ms. Thompson isn't going to trial. The District Attorney hired his own expert witness. They're sending her to an institution for the criminally insane."

"I don't understand. Why aren't you keeping our services? I may not have been doing this for long, but don't you always have an expert to give a counter-testimony?"

"Because, despite my efforts to keep Ms. Thompson silent, she's been saying the same thing…"

"And what's that?"

Maggie hesitated with her words: "She's blaming the murders on a man…that came from her nightmares."

_Her nightmares?_ thought Neil. _Whatever I need to do, I'm going to be on this case_. Neil pondered what he was going to say next to Maggie.

* * *

"Time's up. I'm putting her back in her cell," said Lantz.

Neil looked at Maggie. "Thank you, Detective Lantz. We'll meet with Ms. Thompson on another day."

Lantz looked at Maggie expectantly. "And…I apologize for the mix up with Dr. Gordon…this won't happen again."

As Detective Lantz walked away, he muttered to himself: "Fucking assholes…I could've been at home all this time, instead of here with this shit."

As they exited the police station, Maggie extended her hand: "Well, it was nice meeting you Dr. Gordon. I'm very sorry about this misunderstanding."

Neil shook Maggie's hand.

"Very well, my office will send you compensation for your time and travel."

"It would be easier if you just let me help you in this case," responded Neil.

"I told you, Dr. Gordon, the matter has already been settled," said Maggie.

"But you were fighting to take her to trial. Most attorneys would've wanted Nancy to be incarcerated. Why did you fight for the opposite?"

"Dr. Gordon, I told you that that information is privileged," responded Maggie.

"You found something…didn't you…that might prove she didn't do it," said Neil.

Maggie stayed silent for a moment. "During the investigation, there were certain things at the crime scenes that didn't add up…I shouldn't be discussing this with you."

"What if I told you I can help you?" said Neil.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Dr. Gordon."

"Look, if you're already compensating me for my time and travels, you might as well let me help your case—"

"Dr. Gordon, I told—"

"Call me, Neil. And you already told me about the opposing side…even if Nancy is incarcerated, at least we can give a good fight. I'll even work for half my salary. I'm sure Dr. Simms will understand…given what you're up against."

"Why are you offering to do this?" asked Maggie.

_Memories of Joey Crusel flashed in Neil's mind. "I didn't do it…I didn't kill them all, Dr. Gordon…I swear."_ _Neil remembers entering the hospital and seeing the slaughtered bodies of the other patients. As Joey was being sedated by the orderlies, Neil noticed the deep gashes on his face and arms. Blood that was smeared into his hair turned it from light brown to black red. _

"Let's just say…I have some experience with pattern nightmares," said Neil.

"In that case," said Maggie," We've got our work cut out for us. I know a place down the street. I hope you like grits."

* * *

Even though it was close to midnight, there was still a wait at Springwood Diner. So, Neil and Maggie opted for counter seats. Tucked in between several guests, they tried to communicate amidst the raucous crowd.

"Due to her stroke, Dr. Simms didn't give me the specifics about Nancy's case…just the police station address and something about Nancy being a female serial killer. So, could you fill me in on Nancy?" said Neil, as the waitress poured him some coffee. He had a throbbing headache from the spirits he had before arriving at Springwood.

"What to tell? Nancy Holbrook Thompson was born in San Luis Obispo, California on March 15, 1972. She had a normal upbringing—straight "A" student, track and field star…she even played the clarinet in her high school band…"

"Adult life?" said Neil.

"She attended Stanford University, and worked as a copy editor while she earned her degree in political science. That's where she met her husband Jacob Thompson. They got married, and moved to Oregon when Jacob's political aspirations didn't pan out in California…"

"They had two children, Alistair, 17, and Kristen, 15. Nancy was content at being the housewife as Jacob rose in the political scene: he was mayor of Springwood, and that opened the door to him being a senator."

Maggie emphasized her points by showing family photographs. First, there was Nancy at her college graduation. A wedding photo of her and Jacob…Jacob looked primed for politics with his wavy blond hair and light bulb smile. A family photograph of Nancy, Alistair, Kristen and Jacob. Jacob and Alistair were in tuxedos, while Nancy and Kristen were in ball gowns. Kristen had a wreath of white roses framing her blonde hair.

"What a shame that it ended up like this," said Maggie. She looked around first at the other diners before showing Neil the last set of photographs. "Here…try not to let anyone see."

Neil was startled at what he saw in the photos:

Kristen's corpse was sprawled on her bed. She had four deep gashes on her torso. Her eyes were ajar, as if she was looking up towards the top of her head. She was scalped. A farther photo showed drag marks on the walls—which ended to a pile of flesh and blonde hair left on the floor.

Alistair was face down on the kitchen floor. The back of his shirt was ripped open. He had deep gashes on his back. There was a strip of skin missing on either side of his spine. There were four puncture wounds on the back of his head. They were so deep that blood and brain matter had oozed out onto the tile.

Jacob's crime scene looked the worst of all. He was hung naked from the ceiling with a bed sheet. His eyes and mouth were bounded by the skin ripped from Alistair's back. Jacob was disemboweled. His intestines were hanging so low that it covered his genitals.

Neil turned over the pictures, and handed them back to Maggie.

"Monstrous," uttered Neil. Maggie nodded her head.

The waitress placed Neil's steak platter on the counter. Neil's stomach felt queasy. "I changed my mind, miss. I'm not hungry anymore. I'll just stick with coffee."

"Have it your way," said the waitress in an annoyed tone.

Neil gave an astonished look to Maggie, as she dug into her vegetarian omelet.

"Normally, I'd have reacted the same as you. But I haven't eaten since this morning," said Maggie.

"It's practically morning already. So, how did they find Nancy?" asked Neil.

"Nancy was hiding in a closet. She had blood all over her…from her face down to her slippers. Later, it became apparent that some of the blood was hers. She had deep gash marks on her upper arm that required stitching. She also had a concussion, and bruising all over her body."

"What was her mental state?" asked Neil.

"She was absolutely hysterical. They had to put her in a stretcher, and keep her restrained ever after the stitching and treatment. She was catatonic…until finally regaining her senses days later."

"Is that when she pointed the finger at someone else?" asked Neil.

"When I learned what happened, I rushed to the hospital. I discouraged her from speaking to the authorities until I had a firm grasp of what happened. At first, I believed her when she said that somebody else perpetrated the crimes."

"I don't blame you. By the looks of the crime scene, there's no way that Nancy could've had the physical strength to do all of that. She looks so petite in all of the photographs."

"That's what I was thinking. She was 5'4" to Jacob's 6'3". Even her children were taller than her. Alistair played junior varsity football. But then…"

"She started claiming that somebody from her nightmares did the killings."

"Not at first. She wasn't forthcoming with her recollection. Looking back, I would've had her undergo a psychological evaluation, but I figured Nancy was just in shock. Then, it all came to head when the sheriff confronted Nancy about the other murders…"

"The children…"

"Yes…the dead bodies of missing children were found in the basement. By the state of decay, some of them had been in the basement for weeks."

"Did she address the children?" asked Neil.

"Not at all. She kept blaming the murders on another person. I'm trying to find out if there might've been somebody else. She gave a name once when I spoke with her."

"A name?" asked Neil.

"Yes…she identified the man as Freddy Krueger. I did my own investigation, and that name doesn't come up in any records."

"There's a reason for that," said Neil.

"You've heard of the person. Is he wanted in California?" asked Maggie.

"No, he was supposedly a man burned to death in the 1800's. He's become an urban legend in certain places in the U.S."

"Then…Nancy might be crazy after all," sighed Maggie.

_Neil remembered Joey Crusel again. In a straitjacket, singing the familiar rhyme:_

_One, two, Freddy's coming for you._

_Three, four, better lock your doors._

_Five, six, grab your crucifix._

_Seven, eight, better stay up late._

_Nine, ten, never sleep again. _

Neil didn't respond to Maggie's statement. "I better call it a night, Maggie. Do you know of a decent hotel in this area?"

"There's a bed and breakfast a few doors down. It's an older place, so they seem to always have vacancies."

"I'll give that a try," said Neil. "Can I set up a meeting with you tomorrow?"

"You mean 'today.' Why don't we meet back here at 9:00am?"

"Sounds good," said Neil. "It allows me to have my beauty sleep."

Maggie didn't respond to the lame joke. "9:00 a.m. sharp."

Neil took out some money. "Could you give this to the…?"

Maggie nodded as she drank her tea and grabbed Neil's money for his coffee.

Neil gave a nod back as he maneuvered passed the customers out of the diner.


	5. Freddy: Fact or Myth?

Jesse Walsh's phone vibrated against the nightstand by his bed. He reached clumsily through the dark and flipped it open.

"Hello," said a slumberous Jesse.

"Jesse it's me, Neil."

Jesse shifted to get a look at the clock. "Neil…it's…it's three in the morning."

"I know…I'm sorry…I just needed to talk to you," said Neil.

"What's wrong?" asked Jesse. "Did you—?"

"No, I didn't slip if that's what you're asking," said Neil. "Why would that be the first thing you ask?"

"Because…never mind," said Jesse.

"No, go ahead, finish," said Neil.

"Because…I've been down this road with you so many times," responded Jesse. "Do I need to go further?"

"No, you don't have to go on. Damn it, Jesse, I'm calling you to hear your voice. Not for you to interrogate me," said Neil.

"I'm not interrogating you. Look, fine. I believe you, Neil, okay? Can we continue this conversation tomorrow?" asked Jesse.

"Sure, but—"

"You better not ask me to do something for you," said Jesse, "Not when I can barely keep my eyes open."

There was silence on Neil's end.

"I wouldn't be calling you if it wasn't important…"

"And you couldn't find another way to ask me?" asked Jesse.

"It's for the case that I'm working on…" said Neil.

"I can't believe you. Email me the details, Neil. You know I have to teach tomorrow, but yet…We'll talk about this later," stammered Jesse, as he hung up the phone.

He shut it off to save himself from another vibrating frenzy. _Even after all these years together, Neil can still be such a selfish, fucking prick. _

* * *

Jesse woke up earlier than he anticipated. After Neil's call, he tossed and turned for the rest of the night. Jesse's face felt swollen from sleeping on his side. Moreover, when he turned on the blender, it gave him a migraine. But once he took a warm shower, and the bags under his eyes diminished, the morning didn't feel as imposing.

Sure, perhaps it was uncalled for that Jesse thought of Neil as a prick. Given how long they had been a couple, there should be some mutual respect. But then, Neil always expected Jesse to be the giving one in the relationship. It wouldn't be a stretch—as Jesse constantly stood by him. Their romance was far from ideal. When the relationship settled, it really came down to Neil being the first man that Jesse ever took seriously and vice versa.

As Jesse drove to work, he thought about his life with Neil. Could he face it again if Neil became unhinged and drank again? Would Jesse be willing to undergo couples therapy again? Despite being thirty-five, Jesse wondered if he would be willing to start over again—after investing so much with Neil.

* * *

After he finished teaching his morning class, Jesse went straight to the university library. He searched through the catalog, and made a list of all the articles he could find. Jesse didn't know what pissed him off more—having to use a scanner again or that Neil was having him scan something in the first place. It would've been easier for Jesse to email the articles from the databases to Neil via PDF.

But, according to his email, Neil wanted him to find the actual source. Since Neil was always a bit of a technophobe, Jesse didn't protest and obliged. Isn't scanning the source the same as what would've been found online? But Neil believed that Jesse didn't overlook anything in the transferring process.

_To think, I used to be proud of being so thorough_.

Also, Jesse was trying to be a supportive partner. His mindset was that if Neil was too busy working, he won't be tempted to drink. Jesse knew he was being naïve because work never stopped Neil from reaching for the bottle before.

Even more so, the information that Neil requested made Jesse uneasy—especially when the subject matter eerily resembled Joey Crusel's case: Freddy Krueger.

* * *

The kids nowadays would probably confuse Freddy Krueger with the Slender Man. Who could ignore the similarities?—fedora hat; long limbs that can stretch to supernatural lengths; his ability to induce paranoia, nightmares and other physical ailments in his victims.

But the biggest difference is that the Slender Man had no face, whereas Freddy Krueger was known for showcasing his burned visage. Also, Freddy Krueger had knives sewn into his fingers. Not to mention the red and green sweater that he was always depicted as wearing. _Was he a Christmas villain that punished the bad kids?_

Also, Freddy's story was supposedly grounded in history. Neil thought the story originated in the 1800's. It was actually traced to the Salem witch persecution. Men and women alike were being punished for worshipping Satan. Legend had it that Freddy was a gravedigger who liked to steal from the corpses. Not only that—he was prone to necrophilia and cannibalism. When the town's children began disappearing, the finger was pointed at the women first. Beforehand, some residents gossiped amongst each other that they were missing cutlery, but nobody investigated it any further. It was thought that the witches were magically whisking the knives away.

But as the town kept hanging and burning the women, and the children kept disappearing, it became apparent that somebody else was doing the killings. Eventually, the townspeople grew wise and caught Freddy trying to entice a child with an apple. They went to his quarters by the cemetery, and discovered the disemboweled bodies of all the missing children. They even found his weapon of slaughter—a glove with knives attached to them.

They say that Freddy was burned at the stake. Instead of howling in pain, he was laughing instead. He rambled that death would only be the beginning, and that none of their children were safe. And so, the nightmares began, and Freddy first started with the town where he was executed and then the rest of the United States. Generations of children sang a nursery rhyme to safeguard themselves against Freddy.

Of course, nobody could ever find actual documentation. It was a story told for centuries by parents. Even Freddy's appearance changed. In some versions, he was still wearing his ruff and breeches. Eventually, he became known for his signature sweater and brown slacks.

As Jesse waited for the scanned documents to be faxed to their destination, he was transfixed by one illustration. It showed Freddy Krueger with amber eyes. The iris was encircled by crimson. He was smiling through a bonfire. For a moment, Jesse could've sworn that the smile grew wider. Then, there were other illustrations of Freddy carrying a lifeless child that he just gutted. There was another painting of Freddy's face stretching underneath a bed sheet towards his latest victim. But Jesse forwent sending those because it would take up too much ink.

* * *

Once he finished his last class, Jesse decided to crash in his office. It would save him from hassling with the evening traffic. Besides, how could he drive safely? During class, his eyelids felt like sandbags. It could've been because he was lecturing about his least favorite economic topic—game theory. But even Jesse couldn't be that much in denial. It was a long day due to the sleep deprivation, research for Neil, and the two classes.

Jesse threw his leather messenger bag on the edge of his desk. The contents spilled out, and Jesse had a nice view of that Freddy illustration. That eerie grin was directed towards Jesse.

But he was too tired to put everything back in the bag. Instead, he lounged in his chair, and closed his eyes. Jesse felt himself drifting off peacefully when he heard a noise.

He opened his eyes, only to see the papers flapping on his desk. It felt like a warm breeze was emanating in the room.

Jesse looked over his desk, and saw the illustration on the ground. It was on fire. He quickly grabbed his bag, and used it to smother the flames. The fire only grew larger, and Jesse was propelled back by the force.

Suddenly, a hand stretched out from the fire. It looked like it was glowing neon orange. When Jesse looked closely, he realized that they were actually blades—they were so hot that they were glowing.

Quicker than a rattlesnake, blades lashed at Jesse, and caught him on his shin. He winced in pain, but instinct kicked in.

He used his bag to shield himself from the blades again. Jesse could hear the leather sizzling from the heat. He could see the knives penetrating through the back. Just when it was about to pierce the final layer, Jesse woke up.

In a panic, Jesse looked at his desk, and his bag and the illustration were still intact. Jesse sighed with relief as he stood up to stretch his back. A pain shot up on his right leg. Jesse sat back down, and inspected the source of the pain. His pants were sticking to his skin. It was a conglomeration of burned flesh, blood, and material.

_Holy shit_ thought Jesse.


	6. Nancy's Encounter

Nancy Thompson (nee Holbrook) sat in her cell. It was completely white, except for any color that passed by the door's cubed window. She spent the entire night trying to stay awake. But it had been a few days now, and her resolve was weakening.

She tried everything to stay awake:

-Repeating entire poems and stories verbatim to keep her mind alert;

-Filling the sink a 1/4 inch full of water and turning the faucet on so that the dripping water would be unnerving;

-Counting the amount of people that passed by her cell window;

-Tracing both sides of her family tree-uttering each person's name, birthdate, education, and residence;

-Placing her ear against the wall, and listen to the noises emanating from the nearby rooms and pipes;

There were even instances in which Nancy inflicted harm to herself, such as bending her fingernails against the dull screws on her bed. But Nancy was not responsible for the numerous cuts on her arms. No...those were the handiwork of him. Her arms were so bandanged up that she felt like her skin had extra layers.

Nancy thought about how flawless her arms used to look. She recalled those summer days when her mother stood with a Mai Tai in her hand, wearing a sunhat and thick sunglasses. She would drunkenly say to Nancy: "What have I told you about sunscreen, Nancy? You're young now, but wait until you grow up and want to get married. No man will want a shriveled up girl. They want girls that are soft and pretty"

It was something that Nancy was supposed to aspire to: marry rich and live in the nicest neighborhood. It didn't matter to her parents that she was accepted into Stanford. Her mother was happy only because Nancy would be around men that came from money. And Nancy delivered: her children were perfect, her house was perfect, her complexion was perfect, her marriage was...that was something entirely different. But she followed her mother's advice nevertheless: "You need to know your place as a woman, and who actually pays the mortgage."

Her emotions were draining her. Nancy paced back and forth, having to steady herself against the wall when vertigo started sinking in.

"Nancy?" asked a faint voice.

Nancy opened her eyes. Tina was standing before her. Tina was dressed in a hospital gown with a surgical cap on. Her face was hanging off her skull, no doubt from the botched facelift. Tina's arms and torso were decorated with dotted lines. Her entrails were oozing out of her side from where the liposuction tube was placed.

"Beauty is a bitch to maintain, Nancy," said Tina. "Especially when you have a younger husband that wants to bed women young enough to be your daughter. Like Kristen. Once, when he was on top of me, he whispered Kristen's name in my ear. I had to ignore it and fake an orgasm. Afterwards, I changed my hairstyle to be like Kristen's, even getting the same lipstick..."

Nancy shuddered.

Tina continued: "But you probably didn't notice. Just like he didn't notice. I wish I would've done what you did, and killed the man that I'm always trying to please."

"I didn't kill Jacob, Tina," blurted out Nancy in a shaky voice. Nancy was hitting her head with her palms, trying to wake herself up.

"And good for you for murdering those piggies of yours too," said Tina, only her voice lowered an octave. "You're a real 'Mother of the Year.' They squealed all the time for momma to do everything for them." Tina squealed a few times before erupting in laughter.

"I didn't kill them either," said Nancy.

"Come on, Nancy, you can tell me. I'm your best friend," said Tina. As she walked closer to Nancy, the blood started to drip on her hospital gown. Her face was delicately hanging from a thin piece of skin.

"Get away from me, you're not Tina!" yelled Nancy.

"Why would you say that, Nancy?" asked Tina in an even deeper voice. "Are you trying to cut me down like the others did when I was alive?" She raised a gloved hand, and cut off the last piece of skin that held up her face.

Nancy jumped back just as the face felt at her feet.

"Or expecting me to look like this?" Tina grabbed Nancy's hand, and dug Nancy's fingers into her face. Nancy couldn't do a thing as her hand was being shoved back and forth to rearrange the facial muscles. Nancy finally wrestled her hand free as the features settled into his visage.

Nancy ran for the cell door, but it was locked as usual. She looked through the window, and saw Kristen and Alistair looking straight at her. Blood was dripping down their eyes like tears.

"Help us, mom" uttered Kristen.

Before Nancy could react, her face was shoved against the glass by Freddy's metallic hand. Nancy tried to hit him with her elbows and the backs of her hands. She was screaming and crying uncontrollably.

Freddy gave a sinister laugh. He was amused that even after showing her these horrors, Nancy was still trying to fight him back.

Nancy finally gave up. Her screaming and crying ceased too. Instead, she maneuvered her head under Freddy's grip to speak.

"What do you want from me?" asked Nancy.

Freddy leaned in towards her. Just when it seemed like he was going to whisper his answer, he licked the inside of her ear. Nancy shivered from the invasion. That was the only answer she needed. He didn't have a reason for terrorizing her per se. He just wanted to destroy her because he could.

Nancy shrieked again, but this time out of anger. She whipped her head around, even though pieces of her hair were ripped out by Freddy's blades. She pulled again at the door, and it gave way.

* * *

Nancy ran through the door, and found herself wandering amongst the police station. She jumped against the wall when Glen Lantz walked to a water dispenser for hot water. He turned and looked over his shoulder straight at Nancy. Then, he walked back to his office. _I'm still in the dream_, thought Nancy.

She exited the police station and stepped out into the street. It was like she stepped onto putty, as the ground felt wet and cold against her feet. Nancy shielded her eyes, as all the colors seemed fuzzy yet magnified. She could hear an alarm go off, and a song playing: _"The ponies run, the girls are young / The odds are there to beat..." _The music may have stopped, but she could hear a rumbling noise. Everything seemed to speed up as the people of Springwood passed in front of Nancy.

Another voice stood out amongst the other voices: _"If you can't snap her out of it, and show that she is able to stand trial, our case is basically sunk and we're back to square one."_

The figures were still moving at light speed, only somebody was making their way towards Nancy. Nancy tried to run away, but her feet were sinking into the sidewalk. She raised her feet with all her might, and began running on the grass. The grass withered away under her feet. Nancy kept running until she could see her house. She ran up the steps, and grabbed at the doorknob-only it was stuck. The more she grabbed at the doorknob, the more that the images were shifting until Nancy was back again in her cell.

* * *

Freddy stood by the sink triumphantly.

"Did you think you was gonna get away from me?" asked Freddy.

Nancy let go of the door handle, as she knew any further effort would be futile.

"All right, so you have me here again. Are you going to kill me now?"

"I didn't answer you questions before, bitch. What makes you think I'll answer it now?"

"Because...deep down...you're afraid to admit that you need me."

Freddy laughed hideously. "Oh, is that so?"

Nancy shifted her position so she wouldn't be against the door.

"You've been going about it the wrong way. You don't kill the family of the person you want to help you."

Freddy shifted his head to the left to study Nancy more fully.

"I don't need any help. I've got you right where I want you."

Freddy turned his body to face Nancy. As he did so, he didn't notice that he was standing in front of the bedpost. Nancy knew it was her chance to attack him.

She jumped upon Freddy. His body hit the bedpost so hard that it rocked the entire room. Nancy took the opportunity, and off some flesh from his ear. She even used Freddy's momentum against him, and raised him up enough to start bashing his head against the wall.

_Come on. Do it. Do it, you bastard! _thought a frantic Nancy.

"Enough!" hissed Freddy. He flashed his finger knives and Nancy jumped back to avoid their sharpness.

Nancy was propelled over the bedpost, and landed against the cell door. She rebounded for another attack, only Freddy wasn't around anymore. Nancy looked out of the cell door, and saw the other cells and the correctional officer. She was awake again. Her plan worked. Freddy was so angry at her attack that he launched her back into reality.

Nancy hugged herself. Letting the anger and fear settle in her body. _My tactic isn't going to work again. I can't fall asleep again. But what can I use? _It was clear that Nancy was running out of options. Nancy looked over her shoulder, and saw something in the corner. She bent down to pick it up. It was the flesh that she bit off from Freddy's ear.

For a moment, Nancy had hope. _Maggie will see. They'll have evidence that someone else killed my family. _But just as she began planning how to preserve the evidence, it disintegrated into sand through her fingers.

Nancy crouched down in exhaustion. There was no going back. She had to plan her next move carefully. It was time to call Alice.


	7. Botched Work

Neil rarely felt shaken by crime scene photographs. But he couldn't get the images of Kristen, Alistair and Jacob Thompson out of his head. It was as if the pictures captured more than the victims' corpses. They captured the brutality that went into each person's murder and torture. They reminded Neil of Joey Crusel.

He slept intermittently until he called Jesse in the early morning. He needed a familiar voice to console him. Even though Jesse was pissed off at being awoken, it was still comforting to Neil. While Neil felt like the biggest asshole in the world to have asked so much from Jesse, he valued Jesse's skills as a researcher. That was a quality that he both loved and admired in Jesse.

But talking with Jesse still wasn't enough. Each time that Neil closed his eyes, he could see Joey in a straitjacket. He was singing that godforsaken nursery rhyme:

"One, two, Freddy's coming for you…"

"Three, four, better lock your doors…"

With each dream, Neil could see a dark figure materializing behind Joey. It first started as a gray fog. Then, it grew darker until its shape was outlined in black. Then, in his last dream, Neil could see the tip of a fedora hat.

Joey seemed disturbed by the presence. "Dr. Gordon, please…help me…"

Neil could see something tearing at Joey's restraints—was it a blade? Before Neil could know the answer, he was awoken by his alarm clock.

* * *

The radio was playing Leonard Cohen's "A Thousand Deep Kisses." Neil turned off the alarm, and looked at the digits between his swollen eyelids. It was 7:00am just as he set it. Before Neil went to the bathroom, he sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled out his phone, and viewed his messages. There was some good news in terms of the appointment. Maggie had texted him, and moved their 9:00am meeting to noon. There was also a new meeting location: Springwood Public Library.

This gave Neil enough time to gather whatever materials Jesse could send him. He checked FedEx Office at around 10:00am, and was surprised that the faxes were ready. Neil paid the costs, and headed early to the Springwood Public Library.

In a study room, he pored over the articles about Freddy Krueger. There was a case study that spanned several mental institutions. Neil shouldn't have been surprised not to see Westin Hills. When the murderous rampage occurred, administration was too busy covering up the security breach. They didn't dare leak mention of Freddy Krueger to the media.

The case study mentioned patients that had delusions of Freddy. Many of the patients were eventually placed in maximum security cells. Another commonality was that the patients committed suicide—only the great mystery was that they died from self-inflicted wounds. None of the patients had access to knives. This led the experts to think that the patients were so far gone that they used their own hands to make the deadly wounds.

According to a cultural anthropology article, there was a cult in the Mountain Region that worshipped Freddy Krueger. During early autumn, they would do a ritual in which the male members donned fedora hats, and the females would make art pieces that resembled Freddy's charred face. The head member slaughters pigs with a glove adorned with knives. It is done to bring forth the harvest. Another article mentioned a cult from the 1970's in Kansas. The members were so high on LSD that they fashioned their own finger knives. They murdered several people in a small town, including children.

Neil then studied the illustrations. He thumbed through Freddy's different incarnations until settling on the drawing that showed Freddy amidst flames.

"It looks like Bosch meets Munch," said Maggie.

"Maggie, how did you find me?" asked Neil.

"I come here a lot. The librarian knew that I was meeting someone here. You looked out of place, so he figured it was you," replied Maggie.

"Out of place?" asked Neil.

"You're wearing a salmon-colored shirt and tan shoes. Most people on this side of town prefer plaid," said Maggie.

"So much for blending in," said Neil.

"How's the bed and breakfast?" asked Maggie.

Neil was a little taken aback from Maggie's friendly demeanor. When he encountered her at the jail, he figured that she was always prickly and businesslike.

"It's nice. I don't remember the last time I had a quiche. The folks there are very nice," said Neil.

"They are. I went to high school with the owner. It's funny. He couldn't wait to get out of Springwood. Then, when they started the gentrification, he came running back to town to set up shop."

"You know, I can't help but notice that the town is a little divided," said Neil.

"Well, we have a lot of Californians that moved here. I guess Portland was too metropolitan, so they wanted to build their own paradise. Springwood seemed like prime terrain, I suppose. One side is the old part, and another the new part," said Maggie.

"Boy, the townspeople must really hate Californians," said Neil.

"At first. But the Thompsons changed that whole image," said Maggie.

"That's right. They were transplants from California. So how's it going with Nancy?" asked Neil, seizing his opportunity to segue into business.

"Well, I submitted an ex parte petition to the court for you to do a psych evaluation," said Maggie. "My assistant is going to call me any minute now to say if it's a yea or nay."

"Great. I've been gathering some materials to prepare for my evaluation," said Neil.

"I've been in touch with a buddy of mine that used to work with the Sheriff's Department. According to him, the standards have gone down since he worked there," said Maggie.

"How so?" asked Neil.

"I've been analyzing the investigation files with him. The CSI dusted for fingerprints, and Nancy's fingerprints were at each crime scene. But what they failed to consider is that it's a home. Nancy's fingerprints are going to show up everywhere! There was even something that was photographed, but not tested," said Maggie.

"What's that?" asked Neil.

"I don't have the actual photo. But the log states that a snapshot was taken of a metal hinge found underneath the Thompsons's bed," replied Maggie.

"Metal hinge? I've never heard of a weapon with a hinge," said Neil.

"Exactly. But the prosecution is claiming that Nancy murdered her family with a knife. Yet, no murder weapon was found," said Maggie.

"Did they bag the hinge with the evidence?" asked Neil.

"That's just it. It was logged, but apparently the hinge was lost in the investigation," said Maggie.

"Poor work, indeed," said Neil.

"That's not even counting that there was no motive whatsoever. The Thompsons were in great financial shape, and there were no traces of Jacob having an affair. They were cleaner than the Cleavers," said Maggie.

"What about the kids?" asked Neil, "They were found in the basement, weren't they?"

"That is an entirely separate mystery," said Maggie, "Even my buddy was stumped about that part."

"Did Nancy have any way of kidnapping those kids?"

"Nancy, no. But Jacob, on the other hand, was on the board for a children's program. It was for underprivileged kids, almost like a 'Boys & Girls Club.'"

"Were any of those murdered kids part of that program?" asked Neil.

"The program didn't have the best recordkeeping. A few of the names did match. But that's not to say that he used some of the kids to attract other victims," said Maggie.

"You mean, if Jacob was behind those disappearances. You sound like you've been doing your homework. Did you have to subpoena those records?" asked Neil.

"It took _several_ subpoenas just to get the sparest details. And even then, I feel like the Sheriff's Department is holding back on me," said Maggie. "It's because everyone has a hard-on for the D.A. Ron Grady. His father was a popular judge, and basically set up the 'good old boy' network that stinks up the old part of this town."

"Well, you have an ally. I don't go for the 'good old boy' network," said Neil.

"But even if we can get you to do a psych evaluation, I'm afraid that Nancy won't be able to hold up. She's been going without sleep for days. And when she does sleep, she goes into a psychosis that lasts for hours at end," said Maggie.

"She still believes that Freddy Krueger is terrorizing her?" asked Neil.

"Yes, that's all she seems to be talking about lately. It's obvious that something happened to her mind that night," said Maggie, "If you can't snap her out of it, and show that she is able to stand trial, our case is basically sunk and we're back to square one."

"But she doesn't need to stand trial in her defense, right?" asked Neil.

"I'm just saying that hypothetically. We need her to be cognizant enough for at least a deposition. Then, her sworn statement might overturn whatever was stated to the Sheriff's and we can move for a 'not guilty' plea."

"Well, I'm confident that I can break through to Nancy. I had my partner send me everything he could find on Freddy Krueger," said Neil.

"And how's that going to help with Nancy?" asked Maggie.

"Look, I've encountered something similar before," said Neil.

"Do tell," responded Maggie. Her curiosity was piqued.

"A few years ago, I was a doctor at a hospital that…that provided care to mentally disturbed teenagers," said Neil. "There was one patient of mine…Joey Crusel…he was also having delusions that Freddy Krueger was terrorizing him."

"Was he a schizophrenic?" asked Maggie.

"No. He was an honor student until the delusions happened. He didn't show the usual signs of schizophrenia. He only withdrew when the episodes began to happen."

"So, how did it work? Did you convince him that Freddy was all in his head?" asked Maggie.

"I was making progress in that direction, yes. But my superior decided that my approach wasn't fast enough, and they ended up medicating him. It was just political bullshit. The hospital needed to meet their quota in order for a pharmaceutical company to keep sponsoring them," said Neil.

"Something tells me the meds didn't work out well," said Maggie, as she leaned back and folded her arms.

"Well, Joey had a bad reaction to the medication, and he ended up murdering the entire wing…patients, security guards, hospital staff. I reported for work the next morning, and found everybody dead. Joey was hunched in a corner, trying to revive Taryn, a patient that he considered a friend…"

"While I was talking to Joey, I speed-dialed 9-1-1 on my cell phone without him seeing, and waited for the police to arrive. They arrested him on the spot," said Neil.

"Oh my god. You were lucky, you know" said Maggie, shaking her head at the story.

"For a long time, I didn't consider myself lucky. I grew attached to all of those kids. I felt that I really let everybody down, Joey especially. I should've fought hard for them, and not let all of that bureaucratic stuff get in the way," said Neil.

"So, I see why you're not into factions," responded Maggie, "I can't guarantee that it won't go down the same way, Neil. And since the stakes are so high, don't repeat this story to anybody while the case is pending."

"I know," responded Neil, "I realize that the odds are against us."

Maggie's cell phone rang.

"Maggie Burroughs…Tracy, tell me some good news. Are they letting us do the psych test?" asked Maggie.

Inside, Neil was keeping his fingers crossed.

"That's the best news I've heard all day," said Maggie. She took out her notepad, and jotted something down. "Thanks, Tracy. You're the best, bye."

Maggie turned her notepad around so that Neil could see it.

"They're letting you do the evaluation. The earliest they could make it is tomorrow afternoon," said Maggie.

"Great. Can I photocopy this?" asked Neil.

"Keep it. I've got it memorized already. I better go and prepare my next motion. You should have enough time to prepare for tomorrow. You practically have 24 hours to get yourself in shape and prove that our client is not a lunatic."

"No pressure," responded Neil.

"Well, just like my dad used to say, 'whatever doesn't break you, makes you,'" said Maggie. "I'll be in touch with you tomorrow about the session."

* * *

It was just after sunset, and Neil was going back and forth between his questions and the articles. He needed to find some way to break through to Nancy. Of course, he wasn't going to coach her into stating what Maggie wanted. But Neil was going to phrase his questions so Nancy herself could see that Freddy Krueger didn't exist.

As he readied his pen to formulate a new question, Neil's phone rang. He looked at the screen, and was overjoyed that it was Jesse.

"Jesse, I'm so glad it's you. Thanks so much for earlier. Everything that you sent was just…amazing…" said Neil.

"I'm glad, Neil."

"I'm so sorry about calling you so early. To be honest, it wasn't just about the research. It's pretty lonely up here, and I wanted to hear your voice."

"Well, you'll be able to hear my voice more when…uh." Jesse's voice was cut off. He winced from a shooting pain in his ankle. On his end, Jesse leaned over to check if his bandage was still intact.

"What's wrong? I just heard you groan. Are you okay?" asked Neil.

"I'm in some pain…because of my leg…" said Jesse.

"Why?" asked a concerned Neil.

"I burned it in my office," said Jesse.

"In your office. How the hell did that happen?" asked a puzzled Neil.

"I'll explain it to you when I arrive in Portland," said Jesse.

"What? You're coming over here?" asked Neil.

"My plane's going to land in about an hour. Look, I need to show you what happened to me. It's not something that I can just…describe over the phone. I had to see you in person. This won't interrupt your work too much, will it?"

The seriousness in Jesse's voice gave Neil pause. "No, of course not, you'd never interrupt anything. You're my partner."

"We'll talk more when I arrive?"

"Definitely. I'll meet you at Portland International Airport. We can still make it to a Thai place I heard about," said Neil.

"That sounds nice…really nice," said Jesse. His voice sounded scattered.

"Jesse…" said Neil.

"Yes?"

"Do I need to worry?" asked Neil.

Jesse gave a deep sigh. "I don't know, Neil. This isn't something that I've ever encountered before. To be honest with you, I'm kind of scared."

"Okay, don't be scared. I'll see you at the airport. I'm really glad that you'll be here," said Neil.

"Neil, I don't want to panic you, but…in the meantime…"

"What. What is it?"

"Whatever you do, don't fall asleep," said Jesse.


	8. Alice, Sweet Alice

Maggie Burroughs was up in arms from Nancy's phone call. How often does a client ask you to reach a family member—let alone a distant family member? She dialed a phone number that Nancy hadn't called for over a decade. By the generic voice message, Maggie hoped that she contacted the right person. She left a brief message with her contact information.

It was already evening, and Maggie thought she was finished for the day. Nancy Thompson wasn't her only client after all. It was becoming tedious for Maggie to be filled in by Tracy at the office. It was reaching the point that Maggie thought about dropping a few clients. Nancy's case was taking too much of her time. While it would've made more sense to stop representing Nancy, there were bigger things at stake. Maggie wasn't going to bow down to D.A. Grady.

Well, truth be told, Maggie also benefited from nepotism. Before Springwood, her father Franklin Burroughs led a distinguished career as a prosecutor in D.C. But there were many perks that came with his position, and he gave into the usual temptations: women, drugs, and alcohol. By the time he left D.C., he was a disgraced alcholic. The marriage with Maggie's mother was strained, but they stuck it out until "till death do us part."

This is why she knew that Neil Gordon was a recovering alcoholic. Maggie herself walked dangerously close to the line. But she had a strong will, and Neil's demeanor reminded her of her father. There was a look of desperation that, at any given moment, you can slip and lose everything. Perhaps that's why they've seemed to be bonding in such a short time.

So Maggie felt that it was her duty to help Neil. What better way to ignore your addiction than to work on a case with a person more screwed up than you can ever be? Plus, it wasn't as if she had to worry about Neil hitting on her. He confirmed everything when he mentioned "partner."

She decided to call Neil before it got too late.

"Hello?" responded Neil.

"Neil, it's Maggie. Am I catching you at a good time?" asked Maggie.

"Yeah, I'm at the airport. I'm picking up Jesse, my partner," said Neil.

"Oh," said Maggie, "Listen, I don't want to take up too much of your time then. I need you to do me a favor tomorrow."

"Sure, what's the favor?" asked Neil.

"Nancy wants her cousin Alice to be a character witness. The thing is that she didn't tell me why. I need to make sure that Alice will benefit our case," said Maggie.

"Okay, do you want me to ask about Alice off the record?" asked Neil.

"That would be great. I don't know if you wanted to do it before or after the evaluation. Use your judgment either way."

"Have you been able to speak with Alice?" asked Neil.

"I left a message. Hopefully, she'll call me back tonight. I'll gather what I can on my end, but to be honest, I'm not liking the secrecy."

"Stay hopeful, Maggie. We'll get to the bottom of this. Regardless of what Nancy's actions has been lately, we should trust that she was cognizant enough to choose somebody she trusted."

"I'll try, Neil, I'll try."

"Sorry, Maggie, but I have to let you go. I see Jesse coming out of the gate."

"All right. I'll touch base with you tomorrow. I'll text you if I hear from Alice, and she's a go as a character witness."

"Okay, bye Maggie."

"Bye, Neil."

* * *

Maggie felt a tinge of jealousy as she hung up. She was sure that Neil had a healthier relationship than she ever had. How long did it take for Maggie to wise up? _Once, twice, three times…a married man. _After a having an abortion and going through several fiancées, Maggie finally felt comfortable enough with herself to swear off men and the fairy tale bullshit.

Besides, what kind of wife could Maggie be? She couldn't help but castrate every man that tried to outdo her. Plus, there was no way she'd split her earnings or her inheritance during the divorce settlement. Maggie wasn't going to fool herself—eventually there'd be a divorce.

Despite actually being alone, Maggie still didn't feel like she had the night to herself. When she took a shower, she kept peeking out the curtain at her phone. When she cooked the penne pasta, she looked at her phone. When she prepared the plate with parsley and all, she looked at her phone. When she finished her third glass of Chianti, Maggie looked at her phone.

Maggie wondered if she should even bother opening the chocolate ganache. It was already 9:00pm, and she needed to be fresh for tomorrow. She was going to use tomorrow morning and afternoon to catch up with her other cases before contacting Neil.

As Maggie checked to see if her phone was actually working, the vibrate function went off. She looked at the caller ID, and it flashed the phone number.

"Alice Johnson?" asked Maggie. Her resentment was evident from having spent a good part of her night by the phone.

The phone was dead for a moment. "Yes, I'm Alice…I guess you're Maggie Burroughs."

"Yes. I'm your cousin's attorney," said Maggie. "I called you on behalf of Nancy. She would've done it herself, but the prison only allows phone privileges between prisoners and their attorneys."

"I get it. I watch enough _Law & Order_. So, why're you trying to reach me?"

"I told you. On behalf of my client," responded Maggie.

"Right, but my cousin and I haven't spoken for a long time," responded Alice drily, "Why does she want to speak with me now?"

"Well, she actually wants you to come to Springwood," said Maggie.

"For what?" asked Alice.

Perhaps it was the liquor, but Maggie could barely formulate the words.

"To be a character witness," said Maggie.

"Character witness?" asked a dumbfounded Alice. "I can't fucking believe it! When Nancy moved to Springwood, she didn't want to have anything to do with me. I know it was because of her husband. You can't run for office, and find out that a family member is a Wiccan."

_Wiccan_ thought Maggie. _This is going to be good. _

"You don't have to tell me the details of your falling out…"

Alice didn't pay any mind: "I made peace with our relationship a long time ago. Her mother, my aunt, always thought that the witch thing was crazy. It didn't fit in with the narrow-minded concept of normalcy and white picket fences…"

Maggie couldn't take it anymore.

"Look Alice, I understand that you have some misgivings. But your cousin asked me to call you for a reason. She trusts you, and wants you to be involved in this. I know this is tough, but do you think you can come here?"

* * *

Alice didn't know why she agreed to go to Springwood. She would have to leave the shop responsibilities to her coworker Yvonne for who knows how long. It was a business that Alice had to carefully plan. It was a shop filled with aromatherapy merchandise, as well as holistic medicine. To present an alternative approach to self-healing, Alice decorated the store with well-placed books on Wicca—her true passion.

Why should Alice move around her personal life to testify? After all, it wasn't difficult for Nancy to disown her in the past. But just when Alice felt that Nancy completely forgot about her, she would receive word such as when Nancy named her son Alistair—which sounded like a male homage to Alice's name.

Alice wasn't ignorant about Nancy's plight. She read the articles about the murders, but kept believing that they were perpetrated by someone else. Nancy's husband was a politician who likely made a deal with the wrong person. But this Maggie Burroughs lady was right. If Nancy didn't trust her, why would she request her presence? Unless, there was another reason that Nancy wanted her there. And if her memory served her well, Alice suspected why Nancy would need help. Only it wasn't for a testimony. It would be for something far different. _Nancy dismissed what she saw back then. Could it really have happened again?_

* * *

It was the 1980s, and Alice and Nancy were pre-teens bored with living in San Luis Obispo. This was before the town became chic. For the longest time, Pismo Beach had that distinction with its waterfront revelry. It was a typical summer night spent at Alice's house. Nancy's mother didn't like sleepovers. Plus, she had always been disenchanted with her sister's (Alice's mother) obsession with the occult. Whereas Nancy's mother favored the salon, Alice's mother explored séances. It was a wonder that the two women were related. With Alice's parents out of the house, Nancy took the opportunity to raid the liquor cabin and make her version of the Mai Tai.

A greater part of the night was spent gossiping about boys, and catching up about each other's lives. More laughter ensued with each intake of liquor. Ever the skeptic because of her mother, Nancy had the idea to conjure up a spirit.

"I want to conjure up something really scary," said Nancy.

"I don't know about this Nancy. Maybe we should communicate with a ghost instead. Some of them can be scary," said Alice.

"Alice, I don't want 'Casper the Curious Ghost.' I'm sure we can find somebody in this book," said Nancy. She was thumbing through a demonology book that Alice's mother had in her library.

"Nancy, I've never called upon a demon before. My mother told me that once you call them, you might not be able to get rid of them," said Alice.

"Don't take this so seriously, Alice. We're just having fun, okay. We probably won't conjure up anything anyhow. It's just to kill time before "Growing Pains" comes on," responded Nancy.

Alice had learned from her mother not to tempt the evil spirits, but she wanted to appease her cousin. Nancy socialized in different circles because of her beauty and popularity, and Alice was so used to being shunned because of her beliefs. Plus, it didn't help that puberty was making Alice look as awkward outside as she felt inside.

Nancy finally settled on a figure. Alice didn't even bother to read who it was. She just dutifully made the pentagram and lighted the black candles.

"Is everything ready?" asked Nancy, "Oh my god, this is going to be so rad."

Alice gave a weak smile.

"Okay, I'm going to start," Nancy sounded out the words to herself. "Okay, this might sound funny but here it goes…"

"Vos ego appello, caeruleus

Daemon cum laminis caestu

Custos filiorum sequuntur somnia

Temerator et comedenti de cadaveribus…"

The candles began to flicker from Nancy's chant.

"Ego voco super vos, Freddy Krueger…"

Alice suddenly realized the severity of the situation. She pleaded with Nancy: "Nancy, we need to stop. Stop it right now!"

"Come on, I haven't finished yet. I just have three more sentences," replied Nancy, as she continued reading.

"Nos beckon vos ad ostende faciem tuam…"

A candle went out, and the smoke was forming into a demonic face.

"Nancy, stop reading!" said a frantic Alice.

"Okay, I'll stop," said a frightened Nancy. Nancy tried to close the book, but there was a force that was keeping it open.

"Nancy, close the book!" screamed Alice.

"I can't. It's stuck open!" said Nancy.

Suddenly, the candles turned a blood red and began melting onto the floor.

Nancy and Alice fell back as the smoky demonic face grew in size. It's face stretched into a hideous grin, and from its side were the shape of knives. When it spoke, a gust of wind swept over Nancy and Alice:

"Te non stultum puella, conantes me vocare

Quantum potero, vobis exponam

Ego sibi omnia defendere quod tenes carus ...Nancy"

"Oh my god," said Nancy, as she realized that the demon spoke her name. He knew her now.

In a desperate attempt to save her cousin, Alice spoke the words "Viribus lucem exiit dæmonium." It was the only phrase she knew in Latin—"By the forces of light, demon be gone."

The demonic smoke hissed, and then dissipated back into the candle.

Alice comforted her cousin, who was crying on the floor. "He knows my name, Alice. He knows my name."

For the rest of the night, Alice stayed awake to protect her cousin. When morning came, Alice walked Nancy back home. They didn't speak at all about the incident. It was not like there were other sleepovers in store. Nancy's mother smelled the alcohol, and forbid Nancy from ever sleeping over at Alice's house. Alice's mother grounded her for about a week for punishment.

* * *

But as the years passed, Alice worried for her cousin. As she learned more Latin over the years, she began to understand some of the things that Freddy Krueger uttered: he was going to punish Nancy for her foolishness by taking away her family. _Did he finally come collecting?_ thought Alice.

By the time she finished packing, Alice had made all the arrangements with Yvonne. She truly didn't know what to expect. But just in case, she brought some of her spell books with her. If there was a fight to be made, Alice would have to be prepared.


	9. Maggie May

It wasn't like the movie _Love, Actually_. Nothing could prepare Neil for the manic state that Jesse was going to be in. Instead of seeing his partner clean-cut as usual, Jesse looked like he aged twenty years. Plus, he was sweating profusely—as if he had been sitting underneath a heater on a summer day.

"Jesse?" asked an incredulous Neil.

Jesse look disoriented, as if he was dehydrated. His blonde hair looked black, as if it had melted into his scalp.

"Neil," he responded, as he collapsed in Neil's arms.

"What's wrong? Why are you sweating so much?" asked Neil.

"Can't breathe," said Jesse, as he tried to loosen his shirt collar. It stuck to his body like rice paper because of the perspiration.

"Let's get you to the bathroom, and try to cool you off," said Neil.

Neil dragged Jesse into the men's restroom. The bystanders stared at them. One couldn't help it:

"Should I call someone?"

"He's just feeling under the weather," said Neil. "He'll be fine. He just needs some air and some water."

The bystander stayed in his tracks. Neil dampened a paper towel with cold water.

"You should start feeling cooler, Jesse," said Neil, as he patted Jesse's cheeks and neck.

Jesse's eyes started to dilate. "Come on, talk to me, Jesse. Come on," said Neil.

Jesse involuntarily grabbed his right leg. He convulsed from the sheer pain. Neil raised Jesse's pants, and was astounded to see a slash mark that was glowing neon orange. Neil shirked back from the heat. By now, the men were gathering around Neil and Jesse.

"I'm calling an ambulance," said the original bystander, as he dialed away on his cell phone.

* * *

Maggie's ringtone went off. She reached for it, but it wasn't on her nightstand. _Damn, I must've left it on my dresser_. Maggie untangled herself from the sheets, and lethargically answered her phone.

"Hello?" asked a half-asleep Maggie.

"Maggie, it's Neil. Where the hell are you? I need you," asked Neil.

"What do you mean where am I? I'm at home sleeping…like a normal person would," replied Maggie.

"It's 9:00am. That's not normal at all. What are you, hung-over?" asked Neil.

"Isn't that calling the kettle black?" replied Maggie sarcastically. _Aw shit, I'm not supposed to know his secret. _

Neil didn't miss a beat. "We've been waiting on you for the last hour. The judge is getting pissed."

"Okay, you're confusing the hell out of me. You can't be serious. You haven't even done your evaluation of Nancy," said Maggie.

"I did the eval two days ago," said Neil. "Come on, Maggs, we need you here now!" said Neil frantically.

"Wait, Neil…hello?" asked a dumbfounded Maggie. _Did he just call me 'Maggs'? No time for that. I need to get dressed pronto. _

Maggie looked up at her dresser, and saw that she was already dressed in her finest suit and skirt.

_Huh, that's strange_ thought Maggie. But it wasn't the time for her to dwell on such trivialities. She needed to be at the courthouse. What excuse would she use for being so late?

Maggie opened her front door, and found herself in a raucous courtroom. The rows were filled with men, but for some reason, Maggie couldn't see their faces. She immediately saw a panicked Neil.

"Good, you made it. You need to go up to the witness stand," said Neil.

"What? I'm the counsel," said Maggie. She dismissed Neil's words and turned her attention to her secretary. "Tracy, give me the files."

A petite blonde appeared. "Sure thing, boss. Let me explain the filing system. I alphabetized the first names by the second letter because all of the people are dead. Then, I used purple for the kids that had longer arms, and red for the kids that never had ear infections. Plus, Kristen was a homecoming queen so I nicknamed her princess…"

Maggie grabbed each file that Tracy handed to her. "I don't need those files, Tracy. I need the psych evaluation results. I need to know what Neil found out."

"She's loonier than the Manson family put together," said Neil.

"That's not very professional, Neil. Is something wrong with you?" asked Maggie.

"You've been ordered to the witness stand," said Neil.

"I don't give a fuck about the witness stand. What's going on with you, Neil?"

"It's the judge's orders, so it doesn't matter a lick. The witness didn't show up, so you're the only one left to testify," said Neil.

"I don't need to be up there. You need to be up there. You're the expert witness," said Maggie.

"No time, Maggs," said Neil, as he shoved Maggie to the stand. He planted her into the seat as he returned to the prosecuting table.

"For Christ sakes, stop calling me Maggs," said Maggie, under her breath.

"All right, everyone now be seated," said the judge. The audience complied.

"Mr. Grady, go ahead and proceed," said the judge.

Maggie squirmed in her seat. She still wasn't sure why she was on the witness stand.

"I would like to show the jury was a travesty Maggie Burroughs is," said Grady.

"What?" asked Maggie.

"Ever since she started menstruating, this whore has been using men like toilet paper."

"I object, Your Honor," said Maggie, as she stood up.

"Sustained," said the judge.

_Fuck this_, thought Maggie, as she proceeded to leave the witness stand. She was going to give Ron Grady a piece of her mind. But the side door wouldn't budge. Just as Maggie was about to climb over it, a force sucked her back to the seat. She could barely move an inch.

"Take for instance, Spencer Dalton, her high school sweetheart," said Grady. "She dumped him because he wasn't going to college like she was."

Jeers resounded from the rows. Maggie was surprised to see Spencer, who didn't look a day older than seventeen.

"This slut even fucked Carlos Reyes here, her intern," said Grady. "When he told about the affair, Maggie discredited him. He not only lost his internship, but he was expelled for tarnishing the work study program."

"That's not true!" yelled Maggie. "He was trying to set me up because of a jealous colleague."

"Is that so?" asked Grady. "Then tell me about your string of one-night stands—like John Doe here. That's right, 'John Doe.' You didn't catch his name because you were busy being a ho."

The audience erupted in laughter. Maggie couldn't believe the accusations that were being made against her. She wasn't a saint, but she was far from somebody that compromised her dignity. Maggie wasn't going down without a fight.

"Look, you misogynistic piece of shit. Weren't you the one that was fucking his secretary AND her daughter?" asked Maggie. "Don't even get me started on that shit eating father of yours who got where he was because of gambling and sucking mobster dick."

The judge brought down his gavel. "That's enough, counselor. A lady isn't supposed to speak that way. Continue Mr. Grady."

Maggie balked at the judge's comment.

"If you look at the exhibits that we have provided, Your Honor, you will find that Maggie not only stole these men's hearts, but their manhood as well."

"Mr. Underwood, show the witness the exhibits," said the judge.

The bailiff brought a box to Maggie. She couldn't believe her eyes at what she saw. The box was filled with human hearts and…_their manhood?_

Maggie finally studied the men carefully. First, she looked at Carlos, Spencer, and John Doe. Then, she looked at the men who were now standing in the audience. Each man had a bloodstain on the crotch of their pants.

She looked at Neil and Tracy. They were shaking their heads in disbelief.

Maggie couldn't take it anymore. She managed to stand up from the seat, but the judge grabbed her firmly by the arm. She shrieked when she looked up at the judge. Dressed in a black robe with a powdered wig was her father. His face was a sickly yellow, and his black eyes were lined with a fiery red. When he spoke, the saliva spewed from his mouth like a faucet.

"You've been a bad girl, Maggie…laying all your daddy issues on these men. Why don't you sit on my lap, and we can get it out of your system," said Franklin Burroughs. His tongue flickered lasciviously.

Maggie screamed as she struggled against the iron grip. The more she was pulled towards her father, the larger his mouth was becoming. Maggie grabbed for the thing closest to her: the gavel. She started striking her father's head. Pieces of his skull ricocheted, hitting Grady's suit. He smeared the blood away like it was nothing. Maggie kept striking uncontrollably until Freddy Krueger's face was in full view.

"What's with kids these days?" asked a sneering Freddy.

He pushed Maggie away. With a dexterous swipe of his gloved hand, the robe dropped from his lithe body. The red and green sweater was left. Freddy placed the fedora upon his head.

In a panic, Maggie hoisted herself over the witness stand and crawled towards the prosecuting table. Freddy's legs stretched as he stepped effortlessly over the stand, and followed in pursuit. Maggie grabbed the files from Tracy, and threw them on the ground as a distraction. Freddy outstretched his arms like an eagle's wings.

Maggie was pushing past the men, who were becoming a human wall. They howled like lunatics in Maggie's face. She desperately dropped to the ground, and tried to crawl under the rows and through the men's legs. She could see Freddy in the corner of her eyes. As she cleared out of the rows, Maggie crawled over a blond-haired man that was twitching on the floor. He had a terrible scar on his leg that glowed. His helpless eyes were turned towards her, but she paid little attention to him as she managed to reach the door.

But just as she flung the courtroom door open, a force grabbed her into the air. Maggie then realized that Freddy changed into a vulture-like creature. His gloved hand was digging into her torso like talons. She writhed in pain, as her body was being carried over the courtroom.

Grady and Neil flipped over the tables so that the sharp legs were pointed at the ceiling. Freddy carried Maggie above them. Maggie couldn't believe what was happening to her. _This is just a dream. It isn't real. It isn't real. _

Freddy let go of Maggie, and her brain seemed to collide against her skull. A copper taste filled her mouth. She writhed as crimson blood erupted from her impaled body.

"No mercy from the court," said Freddy, as he let out a laugh. Maggie's eyes were directed at Freddy's burned face until she took her last breath.

* * *

Neil noticed that the cut stopped glowing on Jesse's leg. Jesse's breathing returned to normal, though he was still in need of medical attention. Neil could hear the sound of the paramedics rushing down the lobby with the stretcher.

* * *

Alice Johnson jerked back in her seat from a mysterious force. She stared out of the train window at the moving scenery. It looked like they were in the country part of Northern California. _Or was it Southern Oregon?_

The train was passing a field with a scarecrow at the center. Alice studied the scarecrow to steady her mind. Suddenly, its cornhusk arm reached for the fedora hat on the top of its head, and tipped it to Alice. A sinister grin spread across its painted face.

Alice gasped and stepped away from the window. She tried to be brave, even though the hairs stood on the back of her neck. She had to be brave…for Nancy. _Who do you think you are? _thought a shaken Alice.


	10. Freddy's Coming for You

1692—Salem, Massachusetts

Even though hygiene was not as important during the late 1600's, Freddy Krueger was still a grotesque sight to behold. As the town gravedigger, Freddy's face was always encrusted with dirt. His hair was scraggly from the sweat, and had the aroma of rotted corpses.

Rumors spread that Freddy was doing ungodly things with the corpses. But no one was ever brave enough to investigate the claims. In the rare instances that Freddy spoke, his voice sounded like wood being grinded against coals. If someone would have ever asked the questions, they would have learned that their suspicions were all true. They would get their answers, all right, but pay with their lives.

Whenever the townspeople passed as Freddy dug the graves, he would mutter this as a response to their contempt: "Keep praying to God. You will need it. I will be eternal, and I will come for all of your children." Despite its impropriety, Freddy would flash his hideous, yellowed smile—just to see the people recoil in fear and disgust.

After the latest slaughter, Freddy warmed himself by the fire. He was disappointed that the child barely made a sound during his disemboweling. But wrapping the child's intestines around his sweater made for a humorous gesture. Its bloodiness made nice crimson stripes against the material. Before doing this, Freddy smelled a sack that contained the little boy's hair. For Freddy, it was like he was breathing for the first time.

His reign of evil couldn't have come at a better time. The people were hungry for justice, and witches were the target. Granted only a few of the women were actual witches. But it was enough to distract the people from the real evil in their midst. At first, Freddy was cautious about who he stole from and which children he snatched. But his chaotic appetite only grew stronger, and so, Freddy took greater risks to achieve his satiation.

"Demons tempt us every day, my son." Amanda, Freddy's mother, used to tell him this as she prayed for her son's salvation. Freddy always imagined laughing in his frail mother's face. Was she praying so much because she knew what her son did with those nubile corpses? Don't they always say that a mother has her intuition? One night, while his mother slept, Freddy caressed her hair with a knife he stole. For a moment, he was tempted to slice open the womb from which he was born.

Little did Freddy know that he would be reborn—within the very fires that he disposed of the children's' bodies. All because Satan wanted to punish Salem for robbing him of his most precious whores. The witches all turned to God in their final moments. Thus, their souls were purified of Satan's touch. But Freddy wasn't so compliant when the townspeople burned him. He became a demon that presided over nightmares, and he targeted any adult or child that didn't believe in him.

Freddy would show them. He will always show them. He will never shy away from instilling fear into the victim's heart, and madness in their soul.

* * *

As Jesse laid in the stretcher, Neil pondered if he should contact Maggie, and reschedule Nancy's psychological evaluation. But every time he took out his cell phone to make the call, something prevented him from doing it.

Neil closed his eyes, and ran his fingers over his face.

He couldn't believe that all of this was happening. He crossed state lines to complete a job, and this is what he got for his efforts. It wasn't going to be a hefty paycheck, and a chance to start anew with Jesse. This was just another bump in a never-ending series of shitty events.

What made it worse? Neil longed for a drink. A Long Island Iced Tea would surely take the edge away. At least Neil would have a break from the self-lashing. He was the one that got Jesse involved in the first place.

During the ambulance ride, Jesse was incoherent much of the time. But when he spoke, he had a lucidity that shook Neil to his core.

"I was dreaming, Neil. I saw him kill somebody," said Jesse.

"Who, Jesse?" asked Neil. He thought if he engaged in conversation, it might snap Jesse out of his mental state.

"The man that you had me research on. Freddy Krueger," replied a grave Jesse.

"Freddy Krueger isn't real, Jesse, remember. He's a legend," said Neil. "Sick people use him as a scapegoat."

"So…do you believe that Joey was a killer then?" asked Jesse.

_No_ was Neil's first thought. It wasn't a question that Neil was ever supposed to answer, not when his professional experience taught him how to be impartial.

Before Neil could dodge the question, Jesse's eyes rolled into the back of his head. His body jerked as if he was having an epileptic seizure. Then, it happened.

"Gonna get you." A hideous voice emitted from Jesse's mouth.

"Jesse, stop it," said a concerned Neil.

"There is no Jesse! I'm Jesse now!" said Jesse, as he pushed against his restraints.

"Stop doing this. You're scaring me," said Neil.

"One, two…I'm coming for you / Three, four…better lock your doors!" said Jesse. He smiled maniacally with the last sentence.

"I said stop it!" bellowed Neil, as he grabbed a pillow to smother the voice.

"What are you doing?" asked the frightened paramedic, as she pushed Neil away from Jesse. "Are you trying to smother him?"

Neil didn't respond. He was too shocked at his own actions.

* * *

The paramedics and the doctor were at first reluctant to let Neil be in the same room as Jesse. A policeman even questioned Neil at the hospital, given the strange circumstances that led up to Jesse's ambulance ride. But when Jesse requested Neil's presence, they had no choice but to abide by the patient's wishes.

Jesse was afraid of falling asleep, and made Neil promise to keep him awake. Neil held his hand to comfort him. He would squeeze Jesse's hand a few times when he dozed off. Whenever he did so, Jesse would snap back to attention.

After hours of doing this, Neil finally let Jesse fall asleep. There was no point in indulging Jesse's delusions anymore. Neil had to question whether Jesse cut himself in a desperate act of attention. The more Neil tried to find a rational explanation, however, the more convoluted everything became. Neil was exhausted beyond belief, and he was tempted to call it a night on the chair.

_Remember why you're here, Neil._ He needed to get some air, and focus on his job. Neil dialed Maggie's phone number. It rang until the line picked up.

"Hello?" asked Neil.

"I'm your boyfriend now, Neil," said a male voice on the other line.

Neil looked down and a tongue was extending out of the phone. He dropped it instinctively, and it shattered to pieces on the hospital floor.

"Shit! What the fuck's wrong with me? What if Maggie tries to call?" said Neil to himself. Jesse's admonitions were getting to him now.

_I'll have to reach Maggie another way_, thought Neil as he went back to Jesse's room. He couldn't believe that he spaced out like that.

A shirtless Jesse stirred in his sleep. He wasn't given a hospital gown, lest the dehydration might start again. Neil sighed, and pondered whether to wake up Jesse or not. Let's say that Freddy did exist. What would Neil say to Freddy that would make him leave Jesse alone?

"Let go of him you bastard," uttered an exhausted Neil. He felt foolish for saying the words out loud, and hoped that nobody could hear him.

Suddenly, lines were being sliced on Jesse's stomach. Neil was aghast at the message that was spelt out: "Watch this." _This can't be happening._ _You've fallen asleep, Neil. You're dreaming because all of Jesse's talk about Freddy. _

But, if it was just a dream, why did it all seem so real? Neil could still smell the rubbing alcohol from the hallways. He could hear the night nurse gossiping on her cell phone. He could hear the night guard adjusting the frequency on his walkie-talkie outside the building.

Jesse's eyes shot open, as his body shifted on his left side. He opened his mouth as if to scream in agony. But no sound came out. The sheet flew as if it was kicked off.

The scar on Jesse's right shin started to spread up his right side.

In a panic, Neil kept pressing the nurse's button until the control caught aflame. He threw it to the ground, and backed away from the fire.

His eyes went back up to Jesse's body. The line was now all the way to the side of Jesse's head and it was glowing neon orange.

Neil was going to jump over the fire, and head for the door. But no sooner did he think this, the door slammed. There was no chance of escape. Unless…if it was a dream, all Neil had to do was burn himself. He'll think he's really on fire and wake up.

Neil put his hand into the flame. _I don't feel anything._ The flames weren't taking. Neil's hand was going right through the flames…as if something wanted him to stay in the dream world.

"Neil…" groaned Jesse. "We're fucked. You let me sleep..." Neil looked at his partner helplessly.

Neil wasn't giving up. He yelled "wake up" as loud as he could. The words died to a whisper. He tried to break the glass in hopes that the pain would wake him up. His elbow bounced back as if the window were made of rubber.

Whatever doubts Neil harbored in his mind were now confirmed. Nancy didn't kill her family, just like Joey didn't kill all the people in his ward. It was him…Freddy Krueger. There was no question that Jesse bore his mark. All that supernatural hocus-pocus was true, and they were all paying for it. He didn't know what Nancy did to bring about this entity, but there was no stopping Freddy's appetite for death and destruction. And Neil was involved whether he liked it or not. He wondered if Maggie was also experiencing the darker side of having a client like Nancy.

Jesse's mouth started to move, as if he was a ventriloquist dummy:

"Five, six…grab your crucifix…"

"Seven, eight…better stay up late…"

"Nine, ten…never…never…"

Jesse's eyes were bulged out as Freddy's sharp glove pushed out underneath his ribcage, and curled over to grab hold of his skin.

Then, Jesse's body split open, raising up like a coffin lid.

"Jesus!" balked Neil, as he fell against the window blinds. They came unhinged as he slid towards the ground.

"Never sleep again!" said a triumphant Freddy. The seeds of fear were now planted.


	11. Psych Evaluation

"Remember me?" asked Freddy, as he pried himself from Jesse's body. There was a sickening crunching sound that resounded when Freddy freed his foot from Jesse's ribcage. Neil vomited on the floor. When Neil looked back up, Jesse's eyes were focused on him like a taxidermy animal.

Neil looked down again. He could hear Freddy's squishy footsteps on the linoleum floor. It sounded like rubber being stretched, and his feet made crimson prints.

"You should," continued Freddy. "I thought Joey was going to be my pupil. He summoned me to take care of his bullies. But when he tried to deny my existence, I had to teach him a lesson…just like I'm doing to you."

_I need to face this. I can't accept any evil that this monster has shown to me. He's tricking me, and I have to get the upper hand_.

"This is a dream. You're not alive. This whole thing is just a dream," said Neil, as he lifted his eyes to face Freddy. He tried not to tremble as he looked in Freddy's eyes. They were blacker than tar. His breath smelled like a thousand dead carcasses, and his tattered sweater exposed mottled, burned skin that resembled beef jerky.

"I want my partner again. I take back any energy that I gave you," said Neil.

Freddy leaned his head to the side, as if he was taking Neil's words seriously. But instead, a sinister grin appeared on Freddy's face.

"Shut the fuck up!" yelled Freddy, as he flashed his glove in Neil's face.

Neil jerked awake from his chair. He looked at the bed, and saw Jesse sleeping peacefully. He stood up to caress Jesse's face. _You're okay_, thought Neil, _he didn't get to you_. But as Neil leaned closer, there was no mistaken Jesse's ashen face. Neil continued to walk around the bed, and shuddered when he saw the bloody line that ran from Jesse's leg to head. Blood permeated the entire right side of the bed, and dripped into a puddle on the floor. It was a painful truth that Neil had to accept: Jesse was dead.

* * *

Lt. Glen Lantz was lounging in his living room. The kids were fast asleep. His wife took a sleeping pill and went to bed early.

_Finally, I have some fucking peace_ thought Glen. There seemed to be no end to the nagging that he got at home and at work. The promotion wasn't what he thought it'd be. Instead of letting his subordinates do all the work, Glen found that he was busting his ass even more now. His superiors just wouldn't leave him the fuck alone.

He sipped his scotch while reading the newspaper. His baseball team wasn't doing well, which didn't seem to surprise Glen given that the pitcher couldn't strike anyone out. As he was turning the page for the world news section, the phone went off.

"Shit," said Glen to himself, as he rushed to the phone. The last thing he needed was his wife and kids to wake up.

"Hello?" asked an annoyed Glen.

"Lt. Lantz, this is Garcia."

"I know. What do you want?"

"Dr. Neil Gordon is here. He wants to do the psych eval on Nancy Thompson. The thing is…he's scheduled to do it later today," said Garcia.

Glen touched his brow. _This better not be like the last time. I don't need another angry lawyer busting into the station._

But this time it was different. There was a court order that was made.

"Is the authorization attached to the schedule?" asked Glen.

"Yeah, it's attached."

Glen had meetings galore in the morning and afternoon. If Dr. Gordon took care of the evaluation now, Glen wouldn't have to stay late again. It would be done, and he could leave work on time.

"I wanted to call you because the policy says…"

"Not another word, Garcia. I know the policy by heart. Kincaid are Stanton are there, right?"

"Yes sir."

"All right. I'm gonna let Dr. Gordon to do the evaluation now because we have enough staff tonight. Kincaid will watch the interview room, while Stanton covers the desk. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. I better not get another call tonight, understand?"

"Yes sir."

Glen hung up the phone. _Fucking jackass_. He headed back to the living room for his scotch and paper—only to be met by his five-year-old son.

"Daddy, I had a nightmare."

* * *

Neil waited anxiously for Nancy. He was hoping that the deputies wouldn't see the bloodstains on the inside of his blazer. Seeing Jesse dead was too devastating. Neil left as quickly as he could. There was no coping mechanism that would be strong enough—not even liquor. He needed to know the truth, and only Nancy could give that to him. Neil shut off his phone just in case Maggie tried to call him. He didn't bother telling her that he was doing the evaluation early. Because it wasn't going to be an evaluation at all.

Kincaid brought in Nancy, and chained her to the table.

"She's all yours, doc," he said, as he exited out the room. He stood watch outside. Nancy looked puzzled and scared. She had heavy bags under her eyes. Her body twitched in nervousness against the chains.

"I know who's trying to kill you," said Neil.

Nancy's eyes flared in anger. "Don't patronize me. I'm not in the mood."

"He wears a dirty brown hat…his face is horribly burned…"

"You've seen him too?" asked Nancy. Her voice was a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

"Yes," replied Neil, as tears streamed down his face.

Nancy knew what the tears were for. "Oh my god, he got to somebody you love…didn't he?"

"Yes," said Neil. He grabbed Nancy's arms hard. She winced, as his grip tore open the scabs that had formed underneath her bandages. Blood began to appear in little droplets on her bandage.

Neil wasn't aware of Nancy's pain. He clenched his teeth hard to stifle his tears of grief and fury. "Tell me what happened." Neil finally said.

Nancy took a deep sigh as she prepared to tell her story.

* * *

But before she started, Nancy told of the sleepover incident with Alice. Then, Nancy brought the story back to what happened the day that her family was slaughtered. Even though it just happened three months before, Nancy's recollection was scattered.

Nancy overheard Kristen and Alistair's conversation, as she put the finishing touches on Jacob's birthday cake.

"What did you get that app for?" asked Alistair.

"Eh, Debbie told me about it. She made it sound like it was really fun, but it's just some guy that spouts off creepy messages. If your phone goes on idle mode, it even plays a song. Listen…"

Kristen put her phone down. The both of them kept their eye on the phone as if it was gold. Nancy shook her head. She didn't understand all the fuss that teenagers made over their phones.

"One, two, Freddy's coming for you…"

Nancy almost dropped the cake as she was placing it in the refrigerator. Kristen and Alistair erupted in laughter.

"That's the dumbest thing ever," said Alistair.

"At least it was free," replied Kristen.

Nancy stormed out of the kitchen. "Where did you learn that rhyme?"

"It's just something that the phone plays, mom. It's supposed to be scary."

"Get rid of it now," said a stern Nancy.

"Mom, it's just an app," said a surprised Kristen.

"You better delete it right now. Come on…hurry up," said Nancy.

Kristen searched for the delete mechanism. "God, okay."

Nancy leaned in to her daughter's face. "If you download that again, I'm taking away your phone. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mom. I'm sorry. I didn't think it'd be a big deal," said Kristen.

Nancy kept her stern look. She moved her eyes from Kristen to Alistair. None of her children protested.

The incident dampened Nancy's mood for the rest of the day. Even though Jacob was satisfied with his birthday celebration, he couldn't help but feel Nancy's negative energy. In fact, Kristen and Alistair could feel the same.

As they prepared for bed, Jacob had to break the silence.

"Thanks for a nice birthday, honey," said Jacob, as he kissed Nancy on the cheek.

"You're welcome," she said, as she finished pulling the covers over herself.

"But…you seemed a little off tonight. Are you feeling okay?" asked Jacob.

"I'm just…Kristen had this app on her phone. It reminded me of something of when I was a teenager," said Nancy.

"Want to talk about it?" asked Jacob.

"No…it was just some stupid thing that Alice and I did one night. We tried to summon Freddy Krueger and it…well, we were drunk, and I started hallucinating," said Nancy.

"Hallucinating, huh. Are you sure it was just alcohol?"

"I swear it was just alcohol," said Nancy.

"So you tried to conjure Freddy from the urban legend. That's a priceless story," said Jacob.

"Yeah, well, that stupid nursery rhyme started playing, and I was starting to feel sick again. So, I had Kristen delete the dumb thing."

"That makes sense that it started affecting you. But don't you think it was a little harsh asking Kristen to delete the app?"

"What's so harsh about it, Jacob? I'm here mother. I have a right to put a stop to something that I don't think is right for her," replied Nancy.

"Fair enough," said Jacob. "I think we should get to bed now."

"Oh right, so you say something, and you make me feel like the bad guy," said Nancy.

Jacob turned over to face the opposite wall.

Nancy laid down and faced the other wall with a huff.

Then, the unspeakable happened.

Nancy would wake up intermittently. She could hear Jacob stirring in his sleep. There were a few times that she had to pull the covers back up, for they were kicked off by a dreaming Jacob.

She woke up again, only Jacob was completely silent now. _He must've finally settled in_ thought Nancy, as she got up to use the bathroom. Nancy wondered how early it was, as she stepped out of the bathroom.

She had the door completely ajar, and the light spilled in the room. That's when she saw why Jacob was silent. Hanging upside was Jacob's body. His entrails were hanging out.

Before Nancy could even scream, she was tackled by somebody. She struggled against the person, trying to regain her strength from the shock of seeing Jacob dead.

Her attacker leaned in, and Nancy could see his face clearly. It was the same demonic face that appeared in the smoke when she and Alice conjured up a demon: Freddy Krueger.

"Nancy," he said with glee.

Nancy looked to her left, and saw a knitting needle. She grabbed it and shoved it in Freddy's eye. She managed to push Freddy off of her as he doubled with pain. Nancy dashed out of her bedroom, and locked the door behind her.

She ran to her children's bedroom. Alistair's room was empty. She moved on to Kristen's room. When she opened Kristen's door, a clump fell on her head. When Nancy touched it, it was a mass of blood and hair. Nancy looked at Kristen's bed and screamed. The blood and flesh scattered on the walls was too much. She stumbled backwards out of the room.

Just as she did, she barely missed a swipe from Freddy. Nancy grabbed a vase that was on a side table, and smashed it on Freddy's head. The only thought running through her mind was to find Alistair.

Nancy ran down the staircase that led to the kitchen. Once she reached the bottom, she tripped over something that made her hit the counter. When Nancy looked over her shoulder, it was clear. Freddy had gotten to Alistair already. He was lying face down, and his back was a bloody mess. Nancy could hear Freddy walking down the stairs.

She tried to run away, but her foot wasn't cooperating. She tried to lean against the doorframe of the basement's door, but didn't realize it was open. Nancy fell down the flight of stairs into the basement.

Freddy's footsteps echoed through the basement. But, instead of trying to get up, Nancy just lied still. Sobs shook her body, as it completely registered that her husband and children were dead.

"I was thinking to myself, why should your husband have all the birthday fun? So, I used his body as a gateway to come directly to you," said Freddy.

Nancy shivered in fear.

"But I felt like I couldn't surprise you without a few gifts. Your daughter didn't even seem me coming. I perfected that flawless body with my knives…to give her a little more character," said Freddy with glee. "And your son was so easy to sneak up on. He didn't even scream when I ripped his spine out," said Freddy. He made an upward cutting motion with his knives.

Freddy savored Nancy's emotional turmoil. "I told you bitch that I would come for your family."

He grabbed Nancy by the hair, and lifted her head up. Her eyes met with his.

"Now that I've done something special for you, you're going to do something for me. Bring me more," said Freddy. He knocked Nancy out with one punch.

It was only later that Nancy discovered that Freddy fed completely off her fear. He used her consciousness to search for children in Springwood, and pull them from their dreams into the Thompson house. Time moved differently with this merging of dream and reality. Freddy got to bring several children until Nancy regained consciousness.

Nancy opened her eyes, and saw the carnage that was before her. Several children were murdered by Freddy's hand. She got up and ran back to her room. She climbed into her closet and repeated to herself that none of this was real.

But Freddy was in her thoughts. The more she denied everything to herself, the more he was a devil whispering in her ear. This was all real, and Nancy was going to take the blame for it.

* * *

"I was the one that summoned him with my stupid game," said Nancy.

"You were just a teenager," said Neil.

"No. I was warned, and I still wanted to push it," said Nancy. "I'm responsible for everything."

"You're doing the best you can to cope with this," said Neil.

"You know, I've been in this cell for months now. And I'm getting tired of all this bullshit. When he last attacked me, I didn't feel as scared anymore. I wanted to see how far he was going to go, and I didn't care," said Nancy.

"How are we going to stop him?" asked Neil.

"I asked Maggie Burroughs to call my cousin, Alice. She might be our only hope. She was there when I first confronted Freddy. She saved my life before…"

A sharp pain spread through Nancy's abdomen. She looked down to see four knives piercing her stomach.

Nancy was raised up from her seat. The skin on her hands peeled away as they were forced through the handcuff. She kicked her legs helplessly as her body struggled for air.

Neil's face still looked the same, even though his arms looked like Freddy's.

His lips moved, only it was the voice of Freddy's: "I'm done with you now, Nancy. Your shift is officially over."

Then, she did something that caught Freddy off guard. Instead of crying or pleading for her life, Nancy laughed. Freddy loosened his grip around her throat.

"You're nothing. You're shit. I'll see you in hell," said Nancy. She spit blood in Neil's face. For a split second, his eyes went black and a fire surrounded the irises. He hurled Nancy over his head, and sent her catapulting through the door's glass window.

Her body collided with Kincaid, as he crashed to the floor from the force.

"Tell them Freddy sent you."

Freddy turned his attention to Neil, whose consciousness was struggling in his own body. _I got big plans for you, Neil. Big plans. You got the body, but I got the brain. _


	12. Death Train

Alice tried desperately to keep her eyes open. Ever since she saw the grotesque scarecrow in the field, Alice tried to stay alert. If Freddy was able to reach her mind at so great a distance, who could say what else he is capable of? By now, Alice was on her second train. She travelled via the California Zephyr from Denver to Emeryville. Then, she had to transfer onto another train to take her from Emeryville to Portland, Oregon.

Since the fatigue threatened to overtake her, Alice relied on the frequent trips that she took to the bathroom. But as the hours pressed on, the water wasn't feeling as cold on her face. Neither was the endless stream of caffeinated beverages. Alice stared at the bags under her eyes. _Hold up girl. Once you see your cousin, you can sleep all you want_.

The train jerked forward, and Alice hit the corner of her head on the mirror. She bounced back and hit the wall. Alice used her sweater sleeve to stop the bleeding. She could hear the train's wheels screeching as if it was trying to come to an abrupt stop.

Alice looked up at the mirror, and saw a woman's face. The woman looked wraith-like as her body was catapulted out of the mirror, though the glass didn't break. Alice pushed herself back on her elbows as the female figure jerked like a person experiencing electrical shock. The woman's convulsions were so strong that her body flipped over from her back to her stomach in an instant.

"Nancy?" cried Alice, as she suddenly recognized the wraith's face.

Nancy's spirit looked up. Her body was glowing in a greenish color. The blood on her face and body was even a darker shade of green.

"Alice?" asked Nancy, as she recognized her cousin. "I thought being dead would free me. I never knew it could hurt this much. I'm trapped."

"Nancy, grab my hand. I'll try to free you," said Alice, as she made her way towards Nancy's spirit.

The train was rocking back and forth chaotically. Alice didn't know what was happening.

Nancy's spirit tried to reach Alice, but it was as if she was being held back.

Alice chanted in the hopes that it would free Nancy's from her captivity: "Obsecro vos veterem, vt innocentis animae. Sit pax in tenebris carere auctoritate."

Suddenly, Nancy's legs were pinned down by a gloved hand. Nancy screamed from the blades that dug straight through her skin. It was like a psychic pain, as the blades didn't draw any blood. She tried valiantly to reach Alice.

"Let go of her!" yelled Alice.

Nancy's spirit began to fade. She managed to utter one last thing to Alice: "Neil Gordon."

Before Alice could fully register the name, her body shot up in the air for a moment. She fell back down as the train fell on its side. Alice lifted herself by the sink, and crawled up until she reached the handicapped handrail. She tucked her body upwards, letting her legs and feet rest against the toilet. That is, until it broke free from its place and crashed against the ground. Alice averted her eyes, as sparks flew in the air. It was as if steel was scraping against concrete outside. Alice had enough strength to lift her legs up, and wrap them around the handrail.

The bathroom door flung open, and an old man fell through. His fragile body thudded against the ground. His blood mixed with the water from the broken toilet. It was probably only a matter of seconds, but it felt like a lifetime for the train to come to a stop. Alice stilled hugged the handrail. She could hear passengers screaming in panic. Alice could hear police and ambulance sirens in the distance. _What the fuck happened?_ Whatever the case, Alice couldn't stay in the bathroom.

"Hello…are you okay?" asked a frantic Alice. The old man was unresponsive. _I need to get help for him_, thought Alice, as she proceeded to swing herself to the bathroom entrance. Alice crawled over the side and found herself in what was the hallway. The cabin was filled with cries for help. She crawled slowly over bloodied bodies towards the passenger seats. There was a woman whose eye socket was a tangled mess. Since they were just as still as the old man, Alice couldn't tell if they were unconscious or dead. Her body ached. Ironically, the wound on her forehead had coagulated. It was the new bruises and cuts that hurt Alice the most.

As Alice neared the beginning of the seating area, the wall beneath her gave a thunderous creak. Alice flung herself over the side, and fell over one of the passenger seats. She flinched as her shoulder pressed against broken glass. She could hear the hallway collapse, and the walls caved into the bathroom area. The injured passengers shrieked because of the loud crash.

Alice sheltered herself from the debris in one of the seats. _I'm too late_, thought Alice, _I couldn't save him_. There was no way that the man survived. Not even the people that she had crawled over. Alice could hear the sirens outside of the train. She just had to be strong. They would free all of them soon enough. Even as the exhaustion kicked in, Alice fought to stay alert. But it was a losing battle. She rested her head against the seat and lost consciousness. _Neil Gordon_.


End file.
